Migraine
by YumeNi92
Summary: Tragedies happen everywhere. We can be traced to causes, blame others, imagine how different it would be without them. But all this thinks does not matter, because the tragedies have already happened .


He didn't notice the moment, at which haunting him migraines, took so much strength. They were annoying especially at night when he was lying in bed on too soft pillow, turning over from side to side with a pulsating, unbearably unpleasant impression deep inside the skull and not being able to find a position comfortable enough to squint even for a short while. He wasn't sure the cause of recurring affliction, but he suspected, that either he's working too hard, or allows himself to too intense speculations about things that should have long since lost value for him. Unfortunately, more and more frequently he found himself playing back in his head memories that caused him uncomfortable feeling of anxiety and guilt, manifested as goose bumps and strange trembling. But was enough for one, brief glance towards the Twelve and all the negative emotions disappear immediately, as if by magic. He couldn't, and perhaps didn't want to be able to state clearly why this guy works for him in this way, but he was convinced of one thing - it was something more than friendship. Twelve knew that too, for sure. And although none of them never uttered a single word about their feelings, the bond that united them, was much stronger than it might seem at first glance. The relationship built on boundless trust and willingness to total consecration, the relationship based on the powerful pillars raised through the shared experience - mainly the tragic ones but also a few joyful, relationship fueled by unhealthy, toxic desire, rooted deep in the bottom of the heart.

Twelve belonged to him, and he belonged to Twelve. Since always.

Wide open eyes have long since become accustomed to the darkness in the room, but still he wasn't able to see the ambient too clearly. He had the impression that in recent times a defect of his vision deepened even more. He narrowed his eyes trying to see the time displayed by the electronic alarm clock, but the only thing he managed to register was a blurred, red spot on a dark background. He furrowed his brow tightly, covering his eyes with both hands while another, strong current went through his skull - as if someone hit him with a heavy hammer right into back of his head. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep anymore, and the view extends beyond the window confirmed him in the belief that to dawn there is still plenty of time. With slow, lazy movement he forced his body up from the bed. He pulled on a gray shirt and stood right next to the large glass, touching with fingers it cold surface. He watched the sleeping city, choking in a growing desire to raise the scream, which stubbornly hurled on his thin lips. He hated when it started ringing in his ears, and on the neck popping up drops of cold sweat. Breathing became restless and hot, every molecule of air inhaled directly into the lungs burned with a fire inside him, and the world around him began to spin. He clutched his throbbing in agony head, clenching his lips and eyes in a gesture of helplessness. He was convinced that in a moment he won't stand that anymore, that he lose control of himself, that he would fall and won't be able to get up. When all the muscles was shook by a strong, nasty thrill, and in his mouth he felt metallic taste of blood - sharply, he turned over his shoulder, looking in the direction of Twelve's bedding. The boy, with scattered hair, was sitting on his bed and stared at the friend with an expression that from this distance was impossible for him to identify. Their eyes immediately crossed with each other. Nine slowly and casually lowered trembling hands along the trunk, wondering at what time he has been observed. Without a word, he looked again at the urban landscape outside the window. Another deep breath, instead of pain, brought sweet relief in the current agony. Heartbeat slowly returning to normal, chills disappeared, and strong pulsations that have caused him so much suffering, now was just ugly, blunt sensation that gradually resolved. Behind his back he heard a quiet rustling of sheets, which pointed to the movement of the second boy. Will he sleep again or will he get up? Doubts were dispelled with the creak of the springs in the mattress and almost noiseless sounds of steps guided to him. He don't flinch, didn't move, didn't turn. He didn't show neither the opposition nor approval. He did absolutely nothing when the petite figure clung to his back, wrapping his arms at the waist, although in reality he felt a pleasant heat wave pouring slowly into every cell of his body. Never before, has not happened to him anything like that. They often interfered with each other in physical contact - when they rode together on a motorcycle, or viewed a movie and relied on each other. Once they even holding hands. So why now, his body reacted in a way he didn't know so far? Why he had trouble keeping his usual, casual pose barely suppressing a desire to turn and clinging to the other body, forgetting about everything else, and the whole world could go to hell? He felt a light weight falling somewhere around his right shoulder. Twelve was strangely silent, which was not like him. Typically, his mouth didn't want to shut, even when Nine expressed his dissatisfaction, arguing it with hindering focus on work. The boy always had something to say, not counting with friend's requests. Why, then, now he was stubbornly silent instead of do his senseless chatter just as usual? He probably was a little worried. This wasn't, of course, nothing surprising, in the end Nine didn't spend the whole night in bed for five days, and signs of exhaustion of his organism were seen as a tray. His eyes were dark circles under, almost purple, he lost appetite, dozed off during the day - even in a sitting position, and he couldn't concentrate on anything.

Twelve's long fingers, with unprecedented sensitivity, grabbed his hand and tightened on the wrist. The boy, gently pulled him towards his bed, where he lay down without a word and did next to him enough space to both of them could fit there.

"Do you want to sleep with me?" He asked quietly, and smiled encouragingly when Nine stopped at the bedding, looking for a friend from above. It happened already, that in the past they shared one bed, but it was result from the need to stay in the conditions on which they had no influence. It was the first time that the proposal like this came from one of them. At first he wanted to refuse and to provide friend, that's all fine and he can go back to his mattress, but in shiny, nut irises he saw the mute request, which he couldn't refuse. He carefully lay down on the bed next to Twelve and for a brief moment he turned his head towards him to see his mouth stretched in a joyful smile. Nine sighed heavily moving look at the ceiling, which at the moment seemed to him to be very interesting. He probably would be lying in this manner until dawn, but a friend unless wasn't going let him to do that. He moved closer, burying his face in Nine's neck and embracing him with one arm. He don't flinch, didn't move, didn't turn. He didn't show neither the opposition nor approval. He allowed just to close up his tired eyes, listening to the faint heartbeat right next to him. He fell asleep just before the dawn.


End file.
